<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sun, 19 May 2013 22:07:46 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>personal responsibility</category><category>good news</category><category>pictures</category><category>illness</category><category>The One Year Plan</category><category>things kids say</category><category>gender roles</category><category>Red Cross Children's Hospital</category><category>Botox</category><category>doctors</category><category>jealousy</category><category>death</category><category>shopping</category><category>paid posts</category><category>guilt</category><category>birth</category><category>poll</category><category>special needs</category><category>socialising</category><category>Felix</category><category>grammar</category><category>sleep</category><category>disability</category><category>spinal dysraphism</category><category>Queeny</category><category>birthdays</category><category>medical stuff</category><category>charity</category><category>crime</category><category>peer pressure</category><category>grandparents</category><category>family</category><category>FELIX: THE FIRST PREGNANCY</category><category>self-esteem</category><category>pets</category><category>Three</category><category>catheterisation</category><category>happiness</category><category>shameless use of blog</category><category>stem cell storage</category><category>toddler</category><category>work</category><category>separation anxiety</category><category>rant</category><category>lies parents tell</category><category>South Africa</category><category>nature vs nurture</category><category>FELIX: THE SLEEPLESS DIARIES</category><category>Xhosa</category><category>TV</category><category>names</category><category>SA Blog Awards 2010</category><category>THE SECOND PREGNANCY</category><category>guest posts</category><category>politics</category><category>bravery</category><category>illness. parenting</category><category>humour</category><category>parenting</category><category>language</category><category>grommets</category><category>gratitude</category><category>school</category><category>conspicuous consumption</category><category>baby milestones</category><category>tantrums</category><category>two years old</category><category>toilet</category><category>teething</category><category>toys</category><category>bullying</category><category>potty</category><category>SA Blog Awards 2009</category><category>birth order</category><category>friendship</category><category>spina bifida</category><category>johannesburg</category><category>The South</category><category>siblings</category><category>breastfeeding</category><category>restaurant outings</category><category>holidays</category><category>food</category><category>shyness</category><category>smoking</category><category>book review</category><category>husband</category><category>religion</category><category>men</category><category>independence</category><category>chidlren's rights</category><category>Richie</category><category>blogging</category><category>love</category><category>writing</category><title>Jou ma se blog</title><description>"Obscene and not heard"? So 2008. Dis jou ma se blog die, where what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.</description><link>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>431</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog" /><feedburner:info uri="joumaseblerrieblog" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>JouMaSeBlerrieBlog</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-2347087952034167735</guid><pubDate>Tue, 14 May 2013 09:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-05-14T11:36:46.444+02:00</atom:updated><title>We have an edible garden. We are terminally cool.</title><atom:summary>


If you turned to p112 of the 15 May issue of Grazia magazine (their first birthday
issue), you’d see an article on “rurbanites” – hipsters who build trendy
vegetable gardens in their back yards, raised ones, in on-trend pallet boxes,
if space is a problem, or rambling ones, definitely using organic soil and
compost and manure, shoo, between an orchard of nut and fruit trees. (I’ve been
working</atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/JgmRRPYq9DM/we-have-edible-garden-we-are-terminally.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H5wvaZ7rl14/UZIFaJ59K6I/AAAAAAAAAcc/oS8Z5726e-w/s72-c/2013-05-14+10.29.06.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>14</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/JgmRRPYq9DM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/we-have-edible-garden-we-are-terminally.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-5844054617940542543</guid><pubDate>Fri, 10 May 2013 13:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-05-10T15:37:29.977+02:00</atom:updated><title>Weighing in on Mother's Day</title><atom:summary>



Mother’s Day leaves me cold. It’s a manufactured day and I
don’t fancy being dictated to, or my family being dictated to, about when I am
to be appreciated. Sean is welcome to forget every Mother’s Day in perpetuity;
I am not his mom. (He might want to remember it for his own mother...) (Also,
he appreciates me plenty.)


I’ll take one unexpected “I love you Mommy” out of the blue
from Felix </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/0jxLIZfMmDo/weighing-in-on-mothers-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>9</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/0jxLIZfMmDo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/weighing-in-on-mothers-day.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-8021424404102834276</guid><pubDate>Mon, 06 May 2013 13:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-05-06T15:52:22.984+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">crime</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">johannesburg</category><title>Are the hijacking precautions actually good advice?</title><atom:summary>
"Oh Sean," I said to my husband in a conversation South Africans have from time to time, when we contemplate whether we can ever allow our children to obtain driving licences in a place where drunk driving is so rife and unpoliced; or we contemplate whether we can justify not having taken our children away somewhere safer, far away to Australia, when the threat of home invasions, senseless </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/8fdhKG4UPhY/are-hijacking-precautions-actually-good.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/8fdhKG4UPhY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/are-hijacking-precautions-actually-good.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-49039136939816934</guid><pubDate>Tue, 16 Apr 2013 12:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-04-16T14:04:11.438+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">grommets</category><title>What was I saying again?</title><atom:summary>
Short term memory loss is no joke, kids. I've been busy as hell (oh, you've noticed? The silence?) Well, yes. Lucky me. Freelance jobs pouring in. I should be working right now but I have to take a tiny bit of me time and process first. 

So two Thursdays ago, I go to physio with Richie - who had been pretty unco-operative there for a few weeks, so we have been chatting in the car and I said to </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/lEw9oko9wX0/what-was-i-saying-again.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>15</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/lEw9oko9wX0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/04/what-was-i-saying-again.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-5299970738119602993</guid><pubDate>Thu, 28 Mar 2013 12:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-28T14:28:08.963+02:00</atom:updated><title>Where do you go to, my lovely Felix boy?</title><atom:summary>
Does anyone else who has a four-year-old feel like they are ceding them?

I am feeling that almost every day with Felix.

When Richie was born I obviously had that guilt that lots of parents feel about having this brand-new newborn who demands way more than half their parenting energy, and Sean and I worked HARD to reassure Felix and spend loads of time with him by himself and all that. Things </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/vHCU4OiHGJU/where-do-you-go-to-my-lovely-felix-boy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>13</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/vHCU4OiHGJU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/03/where-do-you-go-to-my-lovely-felix-boy.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-7459172332808920462</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 Mar 2013 13:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-18T15:04:28.074+02:00</atom:updated><title>Sign language</title><atom:summary>
Yeah yeah yeah, I had a little rant. I'm feeling much better now and I promise I'm not going to feel immobilised by guilt and self-flagellation over that "honest" post. I did imagine my boys reading that last post one day and I realised they would be fine. They are loved. Their mother is a weirdo who talks her way through experiences. It's okay. 

So, on to happier things. 

Something I have </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/iFF3Xdm97v8/sign-language.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gy-yMdE5hCI/UUcPAvb-ePI/AAAAAAAAAbE/iSnBvdblyjU/s72-c/sign-language-alphabet.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/iFF3Xdm97v8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/03/sign-language.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-4129068355429739942</guid><pubDate>Wed, 13 Mar 2013 09:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-13T11:04:09.136+02:00</atom:updated><title>TREAT 'EM MEAN, KEEP 'EM KEEN</title><atom:summary>
FILTHY-MOUTHED VENT BELOW

I have been playing children's games in all my free time for over four years now and frankly I am fucking bored of it. 

I have given up my nights and my days. I have forgotten needs I once used to have because not meeting them has become such second nature. I live totally completely differently nowadays. And most days I am okay with that because of the overwhelming </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/UrYl3hoG6h8/treat-em-mean-keep-em-keen.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>14</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/UrYl3hoG6h8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/03/treat-em-mean-keep-em-keen.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-2253820009983665376</guid><pubDate>Tue, 05 Mar 2013 09:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-05T11:53:12.020+02:00</atom:updated><title>Mom, what was it like when you grew up? </title><atom:summary>



Yesterday I posted on Facebook that I had gone to borrow
some tomato sauce off my neighbour the other day. (Seriously. Who runs out of
tomato sauce? *side eyes Sean* It counts as one of the 5-a-day and it’s the
only vegetable matter my son Richie eats most days. It’s an absolute daily
essential in our house.)




 Now everyone laughs
about the middle classes and the whiteys who live behind </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/D8SBZbNusZs/mom-what-was-it-like-when-you-grew-up.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>13</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/D8SBZbNusZs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/03/mom-what-was-it-like-when-you-grew-up.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-8297833098844155493</guid><pubDate>Mon, 04 Mar 2013 09:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-04T12:20:37.027+02:00</atom:updated><title>Richie's new splints</title><atom:summary>
Geez guys, are any of you feeling as under the weather as we all are? On New year's Day I last took my dog for a jog, since then we have had sniffles and coughs and tummy bugs, some we have medicated, some we haven't, but it's been as if some new mutation of a low-level virus has just crept out from school and hospital - the places where my loved ones spend their working days - to not exactly </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/MbKs1pl8TuM/richies-new-splints.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WhqMZK6KVuk/UTRuhdsD1jI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/SeVt28rdqb4/s72-c/2013-02-26+15.46.20.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/MbKs1pl8TuM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/03/richies-new-splints.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-7777500426345564544</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2013 08:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-02-25T10:46:10.012+02:00</atom:updated><title>My cubs and lion cubs</title><atom:summary>
I have been hearing about Thaba ya Batswana a lot recently, but when I saw Tanya's post abut visiting there last weekend, I was spurred into action. It's right down the road from Sean's work, and it's got a lion cub sanctuary of sorts. The kids can actually go inside and touch baby lions. So on Saturday we headed out for a family adventure.

It was lovely. Touching a wild animal like that is a </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/QxoO7aaC7WE/my-cubs-and-lion-cubs.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>8</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/QxoO7aaC7WE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/02/my-cubs-and-lion-cubs.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-7297221750807065906</guid><pubDate>Fri, 22 Feb 2013 09:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-02-22T11:53:46.856+02:00</atom:updated><title>Friday cleanup</title><atom:summary>

Friday roundup time

Here's a funny story published on Ackermans' My Balancing Act space:

http://www.mybalancingact.co.za/imitation-is-the-sincerest-form-of-flattery

Then, we all get these press releases all the time and I ignore most of them, but this one is an app that Netcare has launched, called Netcare Assist. If you have a smartphone maybe check it out. One of my fears is that I won't </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/NUZACS82qMk/friday-cleanup.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/NUZACS82qMk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/02/friday-cleanup.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-4925858519981339585</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Feb 2013 09:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-02-20T11:46:22.230+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">disability</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">politics</category><title>What I really think is no laughing matter</title><atom:summary>
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</atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/xqqVQhFakX4/what-i-really-think-is-no-laughing.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/xqqVQhFakX4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/02/what-i-really-think-is-no-laughing.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-953079901168025146</guid><pubDate>Fri, 01 Feb 2013 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-02-01T10:04:08.153+02:00</atom:updated><title>How should we talk to our children about race and other differences?</title><atom:summary>


I’m writing an article for Your Baby magazine on how and
when children become aware of race, and more specifically when and how they
start categorising people by race and ascribing differences in them to race. 


Felix started me off thinking about this topic because he
was telling me about how his friends who are black are old. He noticed skin
colour and reasoned that you grow darker as you </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/ELHBmIl1wPU/how-should-we-talk-to-our-children.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>18</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/ELHBmIl1wPU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/02/how-should-we-talk-to-our-children.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-1116923410634316262</guid><pubDate>Thu, 31 Jan 2013 10:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-31T14:05:20.345+02:00</atom:updated><title>Yadzooks, I think we've done it, man!</title><atom:summary>
*I will be discussing bodily functions now. If you are my father-in-law, please look away.*

After two-and-a-half-years of faithful daily lactation, I think we've finally ticked off the lastlastlast "baby" milestone: weaning! (Although Richie is stubbornly still teething his last two top molars. So really, he's doing two final milestones at once.)

The boobs are relieved. 

How did I finally do </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/Q_rESAs1GpU/yadzooks-i-think-weve-done-it-man.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/Q_rESAs1GpU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/01/yadzooks-i-think-weve-done-it-man.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-7843908637001542012</guid><pubDate>Thu, 24 Jan 2013 09:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-24T22:42:46.748+02:00</atom:updated><title>I wrote this for you, Felix</title><atom:summary>
Felix. I wrote this for you.

http://www.mybalancingact.co.za/to-each-according-to-his-need

It's the Ackermans blog post I do weekly, and it's all about not loving your children the same, and why that's a good thing, actually. 

I worry about you, you know.
Yesterday I dropped you and Richie off at school, and because you always, invariably, still try to get me to stay with Richie because you </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/yhrh2d-g8Ew/i-wrote-this-for-you-felix.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>10</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/yhrh2d-g8Ew" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/01/i-wrote-this-for-you-felix.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-6801470603047525106</guid><pubDate>Mon, 21 Jan 2013 12:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-21T14:23:07.858+02:00</atom:updated><title>In the shadow of lady release</title><atom:summary>


"Cold blue steel and sweet fire, shadow of lady release" - Joni Mitchell



Chasps and chaspettes, as our friend Gareth taught us to say, I
never expected to be breastfeeding an almost-two-and-a-half-year-old.



Many things about parenting have been surprises. I never wanted
to sleep train a child, we did it anyway. We never thought our sleeping
arrangements would involve splitting into two </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/RxleRIkYOzQ/in-shadow-of-lady-release.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>6</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/RxleRIkYOzQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/01/in-shadow-of-lady-release.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-961177178326500144</guid><pubDate>Fri, 18 Jan 2013 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-18T11:00:18.958+02:00</atom:updated><title>Someone very funny wrote a "Letter to my pregnant self"</title><atom:summary>
I always wanted to write a letter to my pre-children, pregnant self in which I poke fun at the stuff I obsessed about back then. 

But then this person beat me to it, and I truly did giggle. 

http://www.scarymommy.com/a-letter-to-my-pregnant-child-less-self/

Maybe it's a little bit alienating to those still pregnant and who find themselves in the middle of all this. I think it's better to read</atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/NC3LbyoVR_E/someone-very-funny-wrote-letter-to-my.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/NC3LbyoVR_E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/01/someone-very-funny-wrote-letter-to-my.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-9056713287981149357</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Jan 2013 12:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-11T14:39:01.505+02:00</atom:updated><title>Children's artwork</title><atom:summary>
I always wondered about people who post their children's drawings on Facebook. I have been unceremoniously File 13-ing everything that comes home in Felix's school bag - the lovingly crafted trees with green-painted cotton wool foliage, the sun that radiates ice cream stick rays... I've binned them all. 

And then Felix brought home this: (and I understood immediately, and posted it on my entire</atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/3HEomrrVxDI/childrens-artwork.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vk7A7tmAKzc/UPAGF4iyUqI/AAAAAAAAAZs/AJuqbIquAEg/s72-c/Felix+family+pic.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/3HEomrrVxDI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/01/childrens-artwork.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-428643676196423762</guid><pubDate>Mon, 07 Jan 2013 09:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-07T11:18:02.815+02:00</atom:updated><title>From whence it comes</title><atom:summary>
I'm reading Diane Awerbuck's Home Remedies. I'm a few tens of pages in but so far, she's unflinching (that reviewer's word) in her portrayal of the downsides of the early years of childrearing. I'm reading it with a sense of "she didn't just admit that out loud, did she?".

Today I admitted to my husband for the first time, after watching Felix do a "show" (he has two walking robots, he sets </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/sv1kjv5WmWY/from-whence-it-comes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>10</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/sv1kjv5WmWY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2013/01/from-whence-it-comes.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-5924985235029136826</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Dec 2012 21:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-12-19T23:06:57.666+02:00</atom:updated><title>Year in Review, sort of</title><atom:summary>
We are back in Jozi after a glorious 12 days in Cape Town. Yes we went on holiday before everyone else, so that Sean could go back to work while everyone else is on holiday. We stayed with my mom, at her Cape Town pied a terre, excuse me, and we had a lovely time. For twelve days I watched the worry lines around Sean's eyes recede and we got to know the children in a new, deeper way and didn't </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/Y7SKTiFaAS4/year-in-review-sort-of.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>6</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/Y7SKTiFaAS4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2012/12/year-in-review-sort-of.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-5951203251417195448</guid><pubDate>Wed, 05 Dec 2012 10:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-12-05T12:44:36.782+02:00</atom:updated><title>Kinders moet gehoor en nie gesien word nie</title><atom:summary>
Everyone is hanging in until the end of the year by the dead skin cells on the skin of their teeth, aren't they?

I find myself snappy with the kids - it can feel like they fight, stop to whine, tattle a tale, get slighted, run off and sulk, cry, and then throw in a short giggle in endless rotations and quite frankly, that giggle isn't making up for as much as it used to be able to, a few more </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/O-3pt3Ntcyw/kinders-moet-gehoor-en-nie-gesien-word.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/O-3pt3Ntcyw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2012/12/kinders-moet-gehoor-en-nie-gesien-word.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-8689089337494125861</guid><pubDate>Wed, 28 Nov 2012 09:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-11-28T11:55:53.573+02:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Richie</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Felix</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">tantrums</category><title>The age of the adverb</title><atom:summary>
Having a four-year-old is a very special experience. The transformation from toddler to boy is mostly complete, but I am still amazed by my little guy's verbal skills which are increasing daily.

Felix will come out with a saying we don't use at home, and it's clear he's learnt it at school. So his big thing at the moment is "practising my jump", which he does off the wardrobe in front of our </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/Rv6Zto7slbs/the-age-of-adverb.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u1BqT1IsUDg/ULXbiPdenLI/AAAAAAAAAZA/iomrb2Omm_o/s72-c/C-103.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>16</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/Rv6Zto7slbs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-age-of-adverb.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-6468952548382696509</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2012 19:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-11-20T10:45:42.825+02:00</atom:updated><title>Clamber clubbing for babies, Felix swims, Richie walks...</title><atom:summary>

What a brilliant weekend.

 

You'd never hear me saying that usually after a weekend like this. Sean works almost every day of the year (ja, but "only" a couple of hours on the weekends, most weekends) and some weekends, when he's on call for what seems like all of Joburg and surrounds, it gets pretty devoid of adult company round our place. 

 

I always try to reason out our predicament - </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/q402DlqZ2LE/clamber-clubbing-for-babies.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/q402DlqZ2LE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2012/11/clamber-clubbing-for-babies.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-4390365968206649671</guid><pubDate>Thu, 15 Nov 2012 09:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-11-15T11:17:21.568+02:00</atom:updated><title>Lingerie satire, and why parents don't get Sundaynightis</title><atom:summary>
So the kind folks at Ackermans briefed me to write a story about lingerie. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Whew.

Wipes away tears.

I had some fun with it.

http://www.mybalancingact.co.za/my-lingerie-story#more-4253


See also my previous A. C. Kermans post, a little tirade on the speech patterns of four-year-olds (laborious) and why parents no longer experience that end-of-weekend horror known as </atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/JljgMgYP4nE/lingerie-satire-and-why-parents-dont.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/JljgMgYP4nE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2012/11/lingerie-satire-and-why-parents-dont.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6251698334067836806.post-6614893777035105846</guid><pubDate>Wed, 14 Nov 2012 12:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-11-14T14:30:02.136+02:00</atom:updated><title>Detox debunk</title><atom:summary>
My husband is a doctor, but he's not one of those who thinks it goes dark when he sits down. He doesn't assume he's acquired every morsel of knowledge the universe has to offer.

Hence, when I informed him I was embarking on a detox regime, he was characteristically restrained and diplomatic. Yes, he opined, we could probably both do with some more healthy eating.

But me being me, I will go and</atom:summary><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~3/dvLAPQ5xzEk/detox-debunk.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Margot)</author><thr:total>13</thr:total><description>&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/JouMaSeBlerrieBlog/~4/dvLAPQ5xzEk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><feedburner:origLink>http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/2012/11/detox-debunk.html</feedburner:origLink></item></channel></rss>
